


31 flavors of awesome

by PoisonJack



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Domesticity, Established Relationship, Featuring best bro ever...because he wants free games, Fluff and Smut, General au, M/M, Praise Kink, Rhys as Jack's PA, Trans Rhys, also featuring Rhys' ice cream addiction, i tried i really did, not really a daddy kink but jack does call himself daddy a few times just fyi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 08:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9539381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonJack/pseuds/PoisonJack
Summary: Got a prompt for a supportive and loving Jack or Vaughn with trans male Rhys. Jack is nothing if not overly-supportive in the most delicious of ways.ItsSomething.jpeg





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OnlySlightlySane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlySlightlySane/gifts).



> Written specifically for my trans male friend who requested trans male rhys. Read and approved by him before posting even if I don't know what i'm doing. 
> 
> Gotten lots of requests for trans male Rhys in the past and I've finally _finally_ done it. In no way is this representative of the trans community or people as a whole, or representative of body issues/comfort levels/etc. Just one take of something fun written for my friend.

Jack was home by the time Rhys got in, which was a testament to just how late the younger man was. Jack usually had some last minute project that kept him later than his PA, and Rhys would inevitably begin dinner or pop something easy in the microwave ready by the time Jack got home. 

Today, he came home to Jack removing a freshly roasted chicken from the oven with steamed vegetables in a dish on the counter. The penthouse was filled with delicious scents that made Rhys’ mouth water and his stomach growl.

“Oh, so he finally decides to grace us with his presence,” Jack teased as he set the chicken on the counter, removing oven mitts from his hands.

“Sorry, we ran late,” Rhys said as he put his stuff down on a chair. “That smells _amazing_.” 

The younger man came around the counter to lift his face for a kiss, and Jack gave him a quick hug and a peck before turning back to the fridge. 

“I didn't have time to make rolls,” the CEO grumbled, pulling out a roll of store-bought dough and quickly prepping and putting it into the oven.

“I'm so starving I'd eat that old protein bar we found in the back of the cupboard.”

Jack snorted. “Damn baby, didn't that buff nerd feed you?”

Rhys frowned and his stomach growled again. “We were too caught up in what we were doing.”

“Tell me again how playing video games is somehow going to get that guy his dream job.”

Rhys scoffed at Jack’s oversimplification of the duo’s goal. “We weren’t just _playing_ video games. We were testing out his designs and running through code and making sure things all work properly with commands.”

“Sounds a lot like playing to me, baby.”

Rhys rolled his eyes as he picked carefully at the hot chicken with his fingers, ignoring Jack’s look of judgment for not using a plate. “If his designs get chosen then he gets to fully create and design the _entire_ game with a full team under him and everything. _And_ get paid for it. And Hypnos is a _really_ popular developer, Jack.”

“You know I said I can just _make it_ so he wins.”

“And _you_ know _I_ said that he actually wants to win on his own merit. It’s not just about funding.” Jack snorted at the ridiculousness of such an idea. “It’s a _creativity_ thing. He wants to know for sure that others think his ideas are as good as we know they are.”

“That’s why I _said_ \--”

“No. Not on this.” Jack rolled his eyes, but Rhys came around with a smile and a kiss for the older man. “But thank you for offering.”

“Just don’t come crying to me if all this effort is for nothing.”

Rhys gave the older man’s ass a sharp smack at that, which made Jack yelp in surprise. Jack frowned at the wicked grin he aimed his way before laughing at his statement.

“If someone’s crappy designs win instead, _then_ you can do something about it.”

Jack chuckled. “Sounds like a plan, kitten.”

\--

Rhys ate a lot more ravenously than usual, and when they both sat down he cricked his neck back and forth in pain, stretching first his flesh arm and then his cybernetic above his head. Jack was right; they _had_ been putting in a lot of effort and working really hard. 

“What's up sugar? Nerding out too long give you neck strain?” Jack said with a superior smirk as he took their dishes in for them. Rhys didn’t even bother with a sarcastic response, flopping down onto the couch cushions with some hope that the plush would feel better than the wooden dining chairs they’d sat at.

“Maybe, actually,” he conceded, knowing they had really pushed themselves today. “My neck and back and ribs hurt.”

“ _And_ you're whiny,” the older man teased. He came to stand behind the younger man, placing large, warm palms at the base of his neck to massage with his thumbs. Rhys hummed as his neck got some relief, but he felt like one big sprain.

“My binder is killing me, too.”

“Then take that thing off and let Jack work his magic fingers, mm?” The older man climbed over the back of the couch and muscled his way behind Rhys, forcing him to sit on the edge as Jack got him comfortable between his legs. He started unbuttoning the younger man's shirt with no hesitation, ready to go to work on his aches.

Rhys wasted no time to shed the clothing on his upper body, already feeling better without the restrictive collar of his work shirt choking him for most of the day. He wished he’d accepted the t-shirt Vaughn offered back at their old apartment. “Help me pull this off.”

“You got it, baby.”

Jack helped the younger man pull the binder off and over his head with little difficulty, tossing it aside with his shirt, and Rhys sighed in pleasure at the released pressure and cool air against his skin.

“Freedom,” the younger man muttered with a chuckle as Jack wrapped arms around him and pressed a kiss to his neck. He leaned back into Jack’s warmth, the softness of the man’s yellow sweater welcome against Rhys’ skin. “Even my neck has knots, it's so tense.”

“I'm telling you sugar, you could go without that thing if it makes you this sore.” The older man’s hands gently caressed over sore ribs and small, tender breasts. Rhys hummed in pleasure at the soothing warmth of Jack’s palms after constrictive clothing all day. “At least when you're cooped up with me in the office all day. Lessen the strain.”

Rhys snorted, recognizing a thinly-veiled attempt at getting into his pants during work hours when he heard it. “Yeah you'd like that, wouldn't you.”

Jack only chuckled, not denying the accusation. “And then I could do this,” he said with a devilish flick of the younger man’s nipple which made him gasp in surprise, muttering the CEO’s name in chastisement. Rhys had a hand over the one Jack was absentmindedly toying with, and the older man spread his fingers so Rhys could thread his through to be held.

“We’d never get anything done and you know it.” He voiced the same old accusation he held for the CEO whenever Jack encouraged him to go without the binder, and the older man just chuckled.

It might have been coming from a place of good intentions, but Jack didn't even hide his ulterior motives. If Jack got his way, the older man would keep him naked twenty-four seven, preferably in his lap. And as much fun as that idea might be, company productivity would definitely suffer. So no, Rhys wouldn't be relegating his wardrobe decisions to the CEO any time soon. No matter how much Jack waggled his brows in offer.

“I'd get _one_ thing done,” Jack quipped, smiling into the kiss he pressed to the younger man's neck.

“If you're calling me ‘work’, then you're sleeping on the couch.” Rhys stretched again against the older man and relaxed back into Jack’s chest as he worked at a kink in his neck with his cybernetic hand. It made him wince with a spike of pain. Pinched nerve. Great.

“Sit forward,” Jack instructed as he sat up straighter in the cushions. Rhys did as he was told, putting forearms on knees and letting Jack work his magic on his sore upper body, fingers prodding and palms rubbing. 

Maybe he and Vaughn _did_ push it a bit too hard today. Vaughn would get the developing company’s attention-- he knew he would even _without_ his portfolio complete, his work was so cool- but anything to sinch his chances was worth it in Rhys’ book. Best bro to Head Game Designer would be damn spiffy. And they'd gotten a lot of work done even at the cost of tired, tense muscles.

Rhys groaned as Jack worked out a particularly stubborn knot in his shoulder, relief from the balled up tension there flowing through him. _That_ particular knot had been giving him trouble for a few days now. Neck and back strain was something he'd tried to ignore but obviously he'd pushed things too hard today. He muttered his thanks for final relief from it.

“Seriously baby, if it hurts you this much, you should take a break.” Jack’s warm palms were massaging down his back and around the front to gently stroke over his ribs. “I _can_ keep you inside the office some days if you’re worried. We can order up lunch and tell everyone off.”

“It doesn't usually bother me _this_ much though.” Jack's hands stopped and he huffed. Rhys didn't need to look back at the older man to know he was rolling his eyes. “Okay it doesn't if I'm not under insane amounts of stress and working longer hours than normal and R&D hasn't been halfway up my ass with budget requests.”

The CEO huffed. “You're forgetting who you work for, kiddo.” The older man’s hands rubbed over dull aches. “Hyperion ain't a cakewalk.”

That was putting it mildly. And he probably had the most stressful job on the station-- the man who looked after Handsome Jack. Lack of stress was something itself to be stressed over.

Rhys leaned back against the older man once more with a huff, Jack’s hands stilling on his chest. “I don't want to risk anyone noticing, though.”

Jack wrapped his arms more firmly around the younger man, effectively trapping him against him. His face was on his shoulder and his voice was resolute in Rhys’ ear. “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again, no one will notice, pumpkin.” 

It was an old argument, one Rhys refused to concede to as part of his corporate image. Yes, in truth, a lot of the janitors had bigger breasts than him (especially Head Janitor Bob), and no one gave a shit other than their efficiency of cleaning up Jack's tantrum of the day.

Time and time again, explicitly due to Rhys’ bitching about the binders, Jack had offered to get him the best surgeons and plastic surgeons and R&D pharmaceutical tech that money could buy-- if _he_ wanted. Problem solved bye bye binder, bye bye bitching. 

And time and time again Rhys had refused, though having the option was nice, and that was perfectly fine because Jack was happy with Rhys as long as Rhys was happy with Rhys. Eventually the conversation was dropped, and his collection of binders increased-- some ridiculously expensive but Jack wanted him to have the best, after all.

He wasn't scared of surgery. That wasn't it at all. His arm and eye would attest to that, and pain was no biggie, especially when concerning the massive half-chest tattoo that wove up his shoulder and ended down at his left wrist. He just didn't want it. He had nice sensitivity there; his pretty tattoos were unbroken and unblemished. His body might not be perfect, but it was his, and no okay, his breasts _weren't_ noticeable in the grand scheme of things. He wasn't going to alter himself if he didn't need to, and it definitely wasn't worth sacrificing two distinct points of pleasure at the end of the day. The binder took care of leftover worry to the fact.

He just didn't want anyone looking at him too hard was all. Or at least _that_ part of him. Not with all the effort he put into his damn wardrobe or styling his hair every morning to be the epitome of Hyperion style. That coiff didn't come easy and deserved to be properly appreciated, dammit.

He had no idea how Jack made it look so easy.

The CEO in question smiled at the dissenting noise Rhys made, unwilling to give his binder a day off even alone in Jack's office. Home was home, but work was work. The CEO teased, trying to convince him to give his poor ribs a break one of these days. “They’re all too busy looking at yours truly, baby. Promise. Blinded by the handsomeness even.”

Rhys rolled his eyes, though Jack had succeeded in making him smile. “You’re not _that_ good looking.”

Jack scoffed at the outright lie. “I still remember your shrine to me, kiddo.” 

Rhys turned somewhat red at that. Yes, he still had all his Handsome Jack paraphernalia, but he’d squirreled that away once they’d started dating (and after Jack had nearly bust something laughing over what a fanboy he was...though it got him laid that night so he wasn’t going to complain about it). Officially, Jack wasn’t allowed to mention it.

“...Oh shut up.”

The CEO snickered but pressed a fond kiss to the younger man’s cheek. “Even if anyone _did_ notice, Rhys, they'd probably just think you've put on ice cream weight in all the right places-- _yeah_ pumpkin, don't think I don't know you're bleeding Hyperion dry.” 

Rhys gave a caught look at the dramatic statement, all his months of charging his not-so-secret treat to Jack’s tab finally catching up with him. He thought _surely_ Jack wouldn’t notice. He was too damn rich and too damn busy to notice. 

_Dammit._

The older man just chuckled. “I mean I'm rich, kiddo, but not _that_ rich. You're a menace to my bank account.”

Rhys rolled his eyes though his face was hot at being found out. He wasn't going to get by with nagging Jack’s crappy taste in pretzels for a while (or the lack of nutrition thereof), that was for damn sure. As if Jack was one to poke fun at anyone being out of shape. The older man’s love of good whiskey and snack foods was starting to show around the waist. Not that Rhys didn't love it, though. 

“I mean, don't get me wrong, I like having more of that cute ass to grab-- and if anyone is looking at anything, it’s _that_ cupcake- but what will everyone think when Hyperion goes bankrupt?”

“Oh shut up, I don't get it _that_ much,” Rhys groused, trying to free himself from Jack’s embrace while the older man just cackled. 

“Three times a week and twice on Sundays… You've got a problem, sugar.” 

“You are _so_ sleeping on the couch,” Rhys promised as he struggled in vain against Jack’s hold. 

He didn't go _that_ much… Did he? And times with Vaughn certainly didn't count when they were out having fun together. And if he'd been particularly pestered by R&D about budget increases… Or Jack was being especially difficult about getting to his meetings…

Okay… It sounded bad when Jack actually noticed his little treat habits. _Dammit._

He huffed to himself in annoyed acceptance of his lot in life, ignoring Jack’s amused chuckles reverberating through his back. The older man nosed about his shoulder, his smile being felt against Rhys’ skin.

“Can we stop talking about me and ice cream and focus on the fact that I'm sore everywhere?” Rhys distracted sharply. He was being testy, he knew, and he probably _did_ need to cut his visits to the parlor down a bit… _But that wasn't the issue here dammit._ He had kinks in his neck and his ribs hurt from being bound up all day and dammit Jack had better massage him proper or else he really was going to sleep his handsome ass on the couch.

“Sore _everywhere,_ hm?” 

Rhys snorted at how easily the older man's thought train was derailed. 

Jack trailed his hand down the younger man’s chest-- over the vibrant blue of his tattoos, over a sparse line of hair- to rest at the waistband of his pants. Rhys watched that tattooed wrist with a pout as the older man expertly unbuttoned his fly. “Come on pumpkin, let daddy take care of his special boy, hm?” 

“You're not getting out of rubbing me that easily, Jack.” He tried to be cross, but a smile was stubbornly working its way onto his face at the purr in Jack’s voice, delving fingertips teasing the waistband of Rhys’ underwear.

“Pumpkin, getting out of rubbing you is the _last_ thing on my mind.” 

Rhys made a noise between a snort and a laugh as he leaned back further into the older man’s chest, getting comfortable. Jack snickered triumphantly, one hand absently playing with a nipple while the other slid down into Rhys’ pants. Rhys sighed and fully relaxed into the older man with the pleasing treatment, and Jack whispered smugly in his ear.

“ _There we go, sweetheart._ ”

Jack’s fingers worked over the younger man’s mons, following neatly trimmed, coarse hair to caress plump folds. The younger man spread his legs slightly with a happy sigh as Jack's fingers toyed with him.

“You work way too hard, baby.”

“Yeah… Wonder whose fault that is…” Rhys’ voice was breathy, playful, and he gasped as the older man gave his neck a little nip. Jack chuckled after the fact.

“I think you'll find that working under me has many benefits, cupcake.” Jack's fingertips delved into his folds at the same time that Jack tugged an earlobe between his lips and gave the now-erect nipple he'd been playing with a tweak. Rhys gasped at the coupled sensations, his hips thrusting upwards of their own volition to chase the man's hand.

“Jack, _more_ ,” the younger man demanded as his breath was coming a bit faster, heartbeat strong and picking up speed. 

The older man stroked at him with familiar ease, angling his head to kiss the younger man's lips. Rhys sighed as Jack's tongue danced over his, and he moaned into the older man's mouth as Jack gave that nipple another tweak. The CEO broke the kiss to press lips to Rhys’ jaw and work his way down his neck.

“Don't worry baby, I've got a whole lot more for you.”

Jack's mouth was sealed to the side of Rhys’ throat, sucking and licking and kissing where he knew Rhys was most sensitive, breathing hard himself. Hot breaths teased at Rhys’ ear and the younger man shivered as Jack still toyed with him, working him up right quick.

Jack worked warm, familiar fingers over slick folds, groaning in pleasure at how wet the younger man already was; the way he pressed into Jack's hand insistently. Rhys was throbbing, starting to writhe in Jack's lap with the older man's ministrations, and the CEO whispered absolutely dirty things that equally made Rhys chuckle and gasp.

He tugged at Rhys’ other earlobe with his teeth, working the other side of his neck with his mouth and pressing his tongue against his pulse. Rhys begged for more, placing his hand over Jack's in his pants with demand, putting him where he wanted him. The CEO would have laughed if it didn't turn him on so hard when Rhys took charge, and he rolled with it, giving the younger man what he wanted.

He delved a finger through those hot folds and pressed into the younger man to Rhys’ mantra of _yesyesyes just like that_. It made the older man groan appreciatively, especially as Rhys moved determinedly in his lap. 

Jack knew the signs, and he needed to be careful lest the younger man get off too fast. He was hardly done with him, fully intent on making him come at least twice before he was through. Gotta give him the executive relaxation treatment after all. Work hard, play harder.

He withdrew his finger, earning a sharp noise of dissent before working them through that slickness, dragging upwards to focus on the sensitive nub that needed his attention the most. The slip made Rhys’ gut reactively clench in pleasure, hips jolting. A moan left his mouth as Jack moved the way he'd taught him so long ago, just the way he liked, everything perfect and effortless for the CEO.

The hand not in Rhys’ pants was dragged up and over Rhys’ throat and brought up to his lips, the older man’s voice deep with lust as Rhys parted his lips to probing fingers. “ _Suck_.”

The younger man eagerly did so, tongue pressing against the warm digits as Jack groaned about how perfect Rhys was. It made his cock ache as he thought of that perfect mouth on him-- under his desk earlier in the day- the tip of the tongue currently prodding between his fingers had been insistently swirling about his tip. It made Jack groan, and brought a lusty smile to Rhys’ face.

Rhys had had fun wringing noises out of Jack then, but right now their positions were switched and he was getting payback. Wonderful, _wonderful_ payback. 

The CEO had become well adept at pleasing him, there was no question about that. Jack had excellent command of his body and wonderful, large hands, and those fingers themselves were no exception. 

God he _loved_ Jack's hands. 

Rhys whined when the older man removed his fingers from his mouth, but then his hips thrust upwards as Jack rolled a nipple between those wet digits. He gave the other nipple the same treatment, the cool air providing a whole new level of sensation, pushing Rhys’ limits. Jack chuckled, a heavy, wanting sound, pressing his tongue into Rhys’ hammering pulse as he worked him over.

“ _You like that kitten?_ ”

Rhys was grasping Jack’s thighs with both hands, pressing back against him hard as he held his body taut, feeling release coiling in preparation to spring any moment. The older man kept the pressure in Rhys’ pants firm, but sped up the movements of his fingers on the sensitive nub as Rhys gasped and pleaded over and over again not to stop.

“ _Thaaaat's_ it, pumpkin. You wanna be a good boy, right? Come for me, sweetheart. Come on. Come for daddy.” 

It was the husky tones of the older man that tipped him over the edge, crying out as he jerked in the older man's arms as release washed over him. His whole body shook with the pleasure of it, sweet relief and electric satisfaction firing again and again, deliciously ebbing after a few moments. His mind went blank, worries gone, pleasing tremors going up and down his spine.

Jack's fingers still moved over him, slower now, waiting, more than inclined to bring the younger man off again for double the pleasure. But Rhys was pushing his hand away with a satisfied sigh, boneless against the older man’s taut body as his heart tried to beat clean out of his chest.

Jack chuckled and kissed from shoulder to jaw, wiping his hand on Rhys’ trousers which made the younger man squawk. The CEO just smirked and drew his hands back over Rhys’ chest, gently playing with a sensitive nipple and telling him what a good boy he was. 

Rhys laughed with satisfaction, pushing Jack's hand flat against his chest while the CEO hummed contentedly at his heartbeat. _He'd_ done that to the younger man, gotten him worked up and so damn _alive_ and damn if that wasn't a satisfying thing every freakin’ time. 

Jack wiggled behind Rhys, trying to find a more comfortable position as the younger man reclined against him like a deflated, satisfied balloon. His cock was ridiculously hard, but he wasn't going to press the matter immediately. Rhys would gladly jerk him off or blow him, but boy, he wanted to wreck him proper. That would require a bit more massaging before he felt okay with going to town on the younger man; he knew his simple touches wouldn’t be quite enough to soothe the soreness from the younger man’s upper body. And he had just the thing.

“Tell you what, kitten. Let's run a nice hot bath, and I'll give you the super deluxe Jack special massage with a happy ending.” Rhys snorted as Jack went on, undeterred. “Let me work out _all_ those aches and kinks for you.”

Despite himself, Rhys smirked at his lame pun. “ _You’re_ the menace, handsome.”

“And you love every second of it,” Jack teased as he flicked the younger man's nipple again. 

Rhys hummed with a smile. “I'll get you for that.”

“I look forward to it,” the older man laughed, voice gruff with unspent want. He ground himself against the younger man enthusiastically, groaning a bit at the confines of his pants. Rhys made a pleased, throaty sound in response as Jack groaned. “Go start the tub, kitten.”

Rhys jumped up with a lot more eagerness than he'd intended to show. Jack started stripping as soon as he stood up, leaving his sweater and undershirt to the mercy of the living room as he entered their bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed to remove shoes and socks when Rhys stuck his head out of the bathroom with a request.

“ _Will_ you rub me tonight? Proper?” 

“Ooh just say when and where, Rhysie.”

The younger man gave him a fond roll of the eyes, gaze settling on the patient bulge in the other man’s pants. “Ass. You know what I mean.” Though he wasn’t opposed to a little bit of both if he could get it. Jack's special sensual massage was all well and good but _damn_ a back rub and a good night’s sleep sounded _amazing._ Maybe even rivaling a trip to the ice cream parlor.

Maybe. Almost. 

Jack was amazing, but he was no rainbow sherbert with all seven colors and gold leaf throughout, that was for damn sure.

The CEO grinned at the expectant look Rhys gave him. He was _damn_ good at back rubs, he knew that. And if it would soothe his cute PA, then he'd rub his whole damn body while he was at it. Feet too. “I'll handle every kink you've got, pumpkin.” He waggled his brows at the younger man’s pleased smile. “Maybe you'll leave with a few new ones if I _really_ get into it.” 

Rhys threw a towel at the older man’s puns, threatening something about buying the whole ice cream parlor on Jack’s tab if Jack didn’t hurry up and get in the tub. 

The indignant squawk the CEO made echoed in the tiled room, joined by Rhys’ self-satisfied laughter.

Okay, maybe Jack and rainbow sherbert were on equal footing.

Maybe.

He’d need a few more trips to be sure, though.

**Author's Note:**

> If there's anything in here anyone finds offensive, then i suck and i'm sorry. I'm not trans myself, i've said before that i have no business writing trans characters because of that fact (the amount of requests i've gotten for him the past year have been intense and i finally caved, tried to do it right). 
> 
> i think i'll leave rhys to ya'll fab trans writers with inside insight because the sheer anxiety of worrying im going to put some cissexist bullshit in here by accident (even tho i'm not cis) or hurt someone or not be correctly representative of folks feelings just really shot me to panic attack levels of stress and i dont want to offend anyone, and that is so so hard when not everyone has the same experiences, and it's our fictional bullshit rhack pairing to boot which ups that and aaagh. 
> 
> Writing is my escape from stress sooooo...i'll leave it to the pros from now on :) At the very least ya'll can search the trans rhys tag easier now since it's up there. Probably a lot better stuff out there so check it out :)
> 
> [my tumblr](http://purge-that-urge-rhackathon.tumblr.com/) | [my fic masterlist archive](http://purge-that-urge-rhackathon.tumblr.com/post/134979026515/poisonjack-ao3-fic-archive)


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